The Circle
by claudia flies
Summary: [sequel to Edge of Midnight] History is always with us. What happened in Transylvania in 1462. Gabriel x Anna sort of
1. Prologue

Author: Claudia flies

Rating: NC-17 / Mature Content

Spoilers: 'Van Helsing' the movie

Summary: History is always with us. The eventswhich played out in Transylvania in 1642 begin to have meaning in the present. Anna x Gabriel as always.

Category: AU, Drama, Sequel

Warnings: Violence, gore, graphic torture, sex and religious themes. This is rated NC-17 for a reason, if that is not your cup of tea then do not read it.

Author's Notes: This is a sequel to _Sweet and Tender Beasts _and _Edge of Midnight_; if you haven't readthem this will make very little sense. This story contains slight racist comments; this was done to preserve historical accuracy and are not the views of the author. I mean no disrespect to anyone.

Disclaimer: 'Van Helsing' and all its related articles are the property of Universal Studios and Stephen Sommers. I am not making any money off this. The story is mine.

Feedback: Yes, please.

* * *

Prologue 

The Vatican, September 1881

Father Jargo had been with the Order for ten years. He was not a field man; his work involved mostly books: historical research and translation but he had witnessed some horrors during his time in the Vatican. This however was something different completely. Rivulet of blood ran down the man's back and down his legs. The skin of his shoulders was torn and flesh protruded from the cuts. Bones and tendon were visible through the mess. His limbs twitched erratically now and then. The cloak he had thrown over the man was already soaked in blood and Jargo feared the stranger could not hold out for much longer. He had told his companion to hurry, but it was a long way to the medical wing from the St Peter's church. He looked up into the dark dome and could not suppress the shudder that ran through him. In the dead of night the building seemed to gather an air of thereat which was not visible in the light of day.

The man on the floor grunted and tried to move his arms. Jargo moved to stop him, but the man spoke. Not in any language Jargo could understand. The syllables were fluid as in if the stranger was speaking in underwater. Jargo began to doubt if the language was human at all. He drew his hands back. Satan worked in all of us; in strange and terrible ways. He stepped away from the man whose voice had started to rise, even though his face was buried in the stone steps. And then he could hear the rapid footfalls of people from behind him and the voice died away.

The healers surrounded the man, pressing white cotton to his back and arranging a stretcher to be brought out. Jargo stood back, not willing to go near him again. He could hear other footsteps now as well, these however, were measured and slow. He barely recognised Cardinal Jinette's drawn face in the darkness. The healers stepped out of his way and one of them lifted the cotton away from the man's wounds. The Cardinal spoke with the healers in hushed voice and Jargo could not hear the words from where he stood.

It was surprisingly fast that the man and the blood pools had been moved and cleaned away. Jargo watched the activity dispassionately, and jerked as he was suddenly face to face with the Head of the Order.

"You were the one to find him and look over him. Did he say anything?"

Jinette's eyes were piercing. Jargo felt the words in his mind, but somehow he could not speak them.

"No. Nothing, your Grace."


	2. the Circle: part 1

The Circle

Part 1

* * *

It's hard to listen to a hard hard heart 

Beating close to mine

Pounding up against the stone and steel

Walls that I won't climb

….

It's hard to know when to give up the fight

Two things you want will just never be right

It's never rained like it has tonight before

- Patty Griffin, "Rain"

* * *

The Vatican, August 1889 

Mist hangs on the water. The browning leaves of the trees touching the surface of the water, but they create no ripples. The air is till. Gabriel walks to the shore, mud clinging to his boots. She stands in the lake, thigh deep in the chilly water, but she does not seem cold. The arch of her back is relaxed. Her hair is longer, black curls nearly reaching the swell of her hip. She turns to look, as if sensing his presence. Her hands are smoothing down over her huge belly, the swell of it causing ripples in the water. She stares back at him, her eyes sad. She lifts her left hand and blood is pumping from the centre of her palm, red lines running down her arm and dribbling into the water. He cannot move, boots sunken into the slippery mud of the lakeside. Her head drops backwards, blood now running down her neck, rivulets racing between her breasts, spreading over her stomach and into the water. She screams, but there is no sound. His heart beats in the absence of her voice.

The banging on his door had turned insistent, and Gabriel fought to untangle himself from the bedclothes. He limbed to the door, refusing to let his mind linger on the images of the dream. Carl stood in the darkness of the hallway, wringing his hands together impatiently.

"Van Helsing! You need to come with me!"

He was breathless, fearful wonder colouring his voice. Gabriel let out a frustrated breath, his nerves still on edge.

"Carl, can this not wait?"

"Absolutely not! You must come now."

For once his voice denied all arguments and Gabriel, against his better judgement dressed, as the other man paced the length of the hallway.

**x x x x x x x **

Anna slid the steel of her sword against its counterpart, forcing Marko to retreat with fumbling steps. She could feel Gyorgy's gaze from the doorway, assessing the boy's skill. Maybe it was his father's gaze which made him so jittery today, or maybe she had been ignoring the boy's affection for her too long. Easily she disarmed him, catching the sword as it flew through the crispy morning air. Gyorgy sighed in displeasure, but still moved to help the boy up from the ground. Marko's eyes kept sliding back to her and his father gave him a disproving glance.

"Lady Anna."

He almost never called her that, but she suspected it was more to remind his son of his place rather than pay her any curtsey. She nodded, willing him to go on.

"There is a messenger from the Vatican waiting for you in the parlour."

Her head snapped up to face him, eyes wary. She handed the swords back to Marko and disappeared through the side door into the relative warmth of the house. Gyorgy watched her go with mixed emotions.

Physically she had healed quickly after her fight with the vampire covenant, but he was not so sure how her heart and mind had coped. It had only been some weeks and his wife had consoled her as much as Anna had let her. Maybe it was wise to let her grief run its own course. He turned his attention back to his son whose eyes were still firmly fixed onto the doorway into which Anna had disappeared. Maybe it was not so wise to let her train Marko. She was an exceptional fencer, but he feared his son was beginning to form an attachment she could never return. He had laid down rules to all of his sons, and made it clear if any lines were crossed he would not protect them from Anna's wrath. Marko would learn in time, whether it be the hard way.

Anna made her way into the parlour through the maze of the house. She had expected the Order to call upon her to explain what had happened with Azare and Father. It was strange, even with time she still though of them as separate entities, drawn so apart in her mind. Firmly she pressed her thoughts of those men into the back of her heart and hardened her face. The man waiting for her in the parlour was a young messenger, who handed her an envelope, bowed and left.

_Your Royal Highness, Princess Anna Valerious_

Anna snorted in the back of her throat. Gyorgy must have had some stern words with the Order, after her arrival to his household.

_The Knights of the Holy Order kindly requests you presence in the Vatican, for a matter of grave urgency._

_Respectfully_

_Cardinal Jinette _

Anna stared the letter, letting the suspicion filter through her mind. This could not be a trap; her position was secure enough with her title re-instated and the court supporting her. She was, though, very curious of what game the Cardinal was playing. Swiftly she marched to the servants' wing, calling out to the stable boy to saddle her horse.

**x x x x x x x **

Gabriel drummed his fingers against the desk, irritation clearly written on his face. The room was in the lower levels of the Order's compound, dark and dank without any windows. Oil lamps and candles brought some light into the room, but the black stone walls seemed to absorb it. The few men in the room moved restlessly. Jinette leaned against the table in the middle of the room, his hand resting next to a large wooden chest. He seemed to be sensing the discomfort in the room.

"Gentlemen, I apologise for the early awakening and the wait, we are however, missing someone."

Gabriel looked around at the random gathering of men. Carl and a fellow scientist, a greying historian Gabriel had seen working in the archives, a scriber, Jinette, and of course Gabriel himself. He prayed silently they had not discovered a new breed of monster for him to hunt. For the last few weeks he had felt weary, bone tired. His wounds were healing slower, victories turning ash in his mouth. There was a firm knock on the door and a young priest appeared into the opening carrying a lantern. Gabriel felt like the wind had been knocked out from him, when behind the servant Anna Valerious stepped into the room. She looked harder now; more sharp angles and the air she carried herself with had changed. Gabriel would have never thought it, but she looked like a queen. She was still dressed in riding boots, men's shirt and a long coat, but somehow she seemed different. Her station was now etched in her body; a form fitting armour around her.

"Ah, Lady Valerious, thank you for such a swift arrival."

She nodded slightly towards the Cardinal, and Gabriel had to bite the inside of his cheek in surprise of the Jinette's polite tone.

"As much as cryptic messages from the Order brighten up my day, what is this about?"

Jinette nodded to Carl and the friar began opening the chest laid in the centre of the room. After a few clicks and a whirl of locks he pulled a side of the box open. Inside were stacks of parchment scrolls and on the bottom two canvases. Carl's voice was tense, but Gabriel could not precisely read why. He seemed both fearful and exited.

"The chest was discovered by accident in the lower levels of the library. It had been wedged between a shelf and a wall."

Gently he pulled one of the fabric bundles from under the fragile parchments. The roll was nearly a meter long.

"As far as we have been able to date it…"

He stopped, eyes watching Anna in wonder. As if shaking himself, the friar continued.

"Well, we are obviously not certain, but it seems to have been painted during the 15th century."

Carl motioned for one of the men and he moved to grasp the other end of the canvas. They walked to the far wall. Lifting the bundle up they let the roll unravel.

"Oh my God!"

Anna could not help the gasp escaping her lips.

In front of them was spread a painting. With a strange sense of dread Anna could recognise her own features looking back at her from the canvas. She was sitting on a lush chair, dressed completely in red. Her shoulders were draped with a red cape, lined with fur. She looked head on out of the picture, eyes full of pride. Her hand was resting on her shoulder, clasping a large palm. The owner of the hand stood behind her, his silver armour was adorned with intricate carvings, a heavy white cape hung from his broad shoulders. His face was Gabriel's, perfect to the final brush stroke. His eyes were hooded, but a small smile played around his lips, so slight it could be a trick of the light.

She could hear Gabriel's intake of breath, could sense his puzzled dread.

"As you can see, we had good reason for the urgency."

**x x x x x x x **

They had all scattered around the room, each taking on a few scrolls. The language was convoluted and tiresome. Names, dates and travel routes. What bothered her most was that all of these seemed to be catered around Transylvania, or Wallachia as it had been called those days, and more precisely her village. She had caught the name Valerious and Dragulia more than once, but not in any meaningful context. Anna threw her parchments aside in frustration and retuned to the chest. She peered into the dark interior. The stacks of parchment rolls had dwindled, but a few remained. Anna stared at them in anger and shoved her hand into the box. She let her fingers slide against the wood panelling, fingering the nooks and cranes. She was looking for something, there should be something more. The she felt it, the difference in texture on the far side on the chest. She pried her nails into the grooves and pushed, once, twice and it popped out from the wall. She pulled a small tightly bound roll of leather. The covering was worn and cracked with age. Silently she retuned to her table.

Somehow she felt reluctant to open the scrolls. It seemed too personal, too matted and poor of condition to be in a box with official reports. Two servants entered with a creak of the door, carrying trays of food and tea. Anna pushed her hair away from her face, grateful for the distraction. A bowl of hot soup and a thick slice of bread were placed next to her arm. She nodded thanks to the servant and returned her attention back onto the items on the table. She steeled her nerves and slid open the worn, tight bindings. It was just parchment; it was silly to feel so jittery.

The letters were simple and sharp, like someone who had learned to write very late. The uneven signature at the bottom of each page named the writer as Beri. The dates marked in the corner of each page covered at least a two month period. There were drawings in between the writing and one particular made her stop. Her own face looked back at her once again, but now she seemed distracted. Her hair was tied with a dishevelled scarf; wisps of hair escaping around her neck and face. There we other people and other drawings; mostly of people who appeared to be servants or maids.

"I think I might have found something."

Her voice was hesitant, somehow unwilling to reveal her findings to the men in the room. Gabriel was on his feet, moving towards her desk. Anna felt again the irrational bangs of longing and scolded herself. She showed them the pages, rolling open some of the random drawings. She could see the greying man almost twitching to snatch the rolls for himself, but Gabriel's bulk kept him in place. As if by accident she found a drawing of both of her and the man who looked like Gabriel. It covered two pages, showing an orchard in the fall. She was standing under an apple tree, a basket at her feet. He stood close by, face turned to her intimately. Anna swore she could smell the decaying leaves. She knew that Gabriel could see the picture clearly from where he was standing, but he would not say anything.

**x x x x x x x **

Anna leaned her back against the warm wall of the inner courtyard. Some men and horses still idled around the yard, but none of them paid her any mind. She finished the final pieces of her bread and put the plate aside. The sun was slowly sinking behind the maintenance buildings of the Vatican. She had given the parchment roll to the Order's archive masters, allowing them to begin interpreting the full story including the letters of the servant. None of the other papers had divulged any great secrets or provided any information on the painting. Mostly they had outlined travel plans for a group of twelve knights for Wallachia. No names were mentioned and the men had grown more and more frustrated. After hours spent in the dark room Anna had left.

She felt tired but strangely calm. Gabriel's past and his connection to Dracula could be unravelled from those letters. She was refusing to examine the drawings or the painting found in the box. Besides if the woman truly was from her Village, she might be one of her ancestors.

She let her mind wonder in the waning light of the afternoon. Gabriel had been silent, so cold today, but it was what she had wanted. A clean break. Her mind slid back into the orchard; to the people standing under the tree. She closed her eyes and again felt the smell in the back of her nose, the crunch of leaves under foot.

A quiet clearing of throat jolted her out of her musings. She turned her head to the side, noticing Gabriel leaning in the doorway. Carefully he sat beside her on the wooden bench laid next to the wall.

"Jinette seems to keep you in high regard these days."

Anna bristled at his tone.

"You sound bitter."

"No, no…"

He shook his head, rubbing his eyes with his hands tiredly.

"I was just surprised to see you today. It's…"

Anna looked on waiting him to finish. His eyes had lost the glint Anna had liked. He looked so old, now but so did she, as far as Marona's sighing was anything to go by.

"Well, it's hard. To see you."

She looked on into the darkening horizon, feeling the lump in her throat grow.

"I know."

Her body seemed to have a mind of its own, naturally leaning against his side. Gabriel went still for a moment, and after a small eternity let out the breath he was holding. Anna let her head rest against his shoulder. He still smelled of leather and garlic.

* * *

Please review, I would very much like to know what you thought. And I am not above blackmail! 


	3. the Circle: part 2

Author's Note: There is some very violent and disturbing content in this chapter. Those who do not wish or should not be exposed to this, please stop here. Those of you who are of strong constitution, please carry on (and review!)

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Part 2

as we carried the weight

and died for the cause

is misery

made beautiful

right before our eyes

will mercy be revealed

or blind us where we stand

Sarah McLachlan, " Witness"

Wallachia, March 1462

Their journey had been long and cold and Gabriel expected that their welcome would not be any more pleasant. If the rumours travelling from Transylvania were anything to go by, their small group would have their work cut out for them. He looked on at Tristan's hunched back and sent a silent prayer into the Heavens. The men had grown restless as they neared their destination; Wallachia and the village of Vaseria and its heir, who was rumoured to be in covenant with the Devil himself. Gabriel doubted that the devil would lower himself for a nobleman's son, but the foul mood of the other men made him weary. They had all been trained by the Order to resist evil and sense its presence. There was evil festering in Vaseria, that was no question, but whether it was merely human corruption or a supernatural force was to be seen.

He felt it slightly before the trees began to shake. A horse violently pushed through the thicket, its nostrils flared. Its rider had clearly not expected a block on the road and the horse reared up, neighing in surprise. Their horses pushed into the woods, attempting to give space to their panicked fellow. The rider pulled on the animal's reins, trying to force it through the melee of men and beasts. Then Gabriel heard the shouts, the rhythmic gallop through the forest. The hood of the rider fell back revealing a mass of black hair and refined features of a young woman. Before any of them had time to react she had pulled a crossbow from her saddle, squarely aiming at to where she had appeared from. Tristan moved to disarm her, but before he reached the woman's side two riders rushed to the road. Swords drawn they charged towards them. Without hesitation the woman shot one of the riders, hitting him on the shoulder. The rider seemed to shake off the hit moving swiftly towards her, his sword raised next to his head.

Her horse reared again, most likely saving her life. Gabriel pulled at his own reigns, forcing his horse towards the riders, drawing his sword. From the corner of his eye he could see Beaumont advancing on the second rider, glint of fury in his eyes. The first rider charged on Gabriel, deftly ducking from the other man's blow Gabriel sunk his sword into the man's side, calling forth a gush of blood. The man's horse slowed down as he slumped against his neck. Gabriel turned just in time to see Beaumont's blade sliding through the second man's neck, his head rolling onto the road. He could see the woman attempting to steer her horse from the melee, but Tristan and Adrian blocked her way. Gabriel turned his horse around, fully surrounding her.

He could see her back tensing, nostrils flaring slightly in the cold air. Gabriel reached out for her, but found himself facing a blackened dagger.

"My lady, I mean you no harm…"

"I am no one's Lady."

Her voice was soft, but he could feel the strength beneath the words. Slowly he pulled his hand back, motioning with his eyes the men to back away. Beaumont gave a disbelieving snort, but pulled his horse back. Her eyes moved from man to man, evaluating each in turn.

"You are not Dragulia's men."

She tilted her head towards the fallen men, indicating their affiliations. Gabriel shook his head.

"Why are you here?"

Her voice was full of suspicion, her posture still tense. Later on Gabriel did not know what made him gamble all of their lives, he would call it an instinct, but part of him just could not do anything but tell her the truth.

"We were sent here by the Knights of the Holy Order to investigate Valerious' son, Vladislaus."

She seemed to relax slightly, but her eyes remained closed off. He did not know why she chose to believe him, but thought maybe it was something to do with his willingness to trust her so suddenly.

"You better follow me then. I will take you to the village."

She turned her horse around, moving with a steady trot into the woods. The band of men composed themselves after the disruption of the fight and all moved to follow her. Gabriel could feel the disbelieving gaze of Beaumont on his back, but chose to ignore his comrade's anger. Adrian moved past both of them, deftly moving his horse next to the woman's. She, however, gave Adrian very little time to compose himself.

"Why did you kill the men?"

Gabriel had to smile at her abruptness. Adrian eyed her strangely, but her forceful gaze forced him to answer.

"They seemed to be chasing you. We were only trying to protect you."

"Because I am a woman, in need of a rescue."

She finished for him and then she laughed, the sound was hollow and it made Gabriel's spine prickle. She moved to another road which appeared again, like out of nowhere between the thick trees. She moved onto a gallop, gracefully moving with the motions of her horse. Gabriel now had time to analyse her from a distance. She had seemed proud and wilful, but her clothing revealed her to be some kind of servant, maybe a chamber maid. Her boots were scuffed and the hem of her dress badly muddied and torn. Her thick coat seemed far too large for her. Gabriel urged his horse next to hers; she gave him a look, but did not say anything.

The road started widening and Gabriel began to hear the sound of people in the air. She slowed her horse down to a trot, turning towards Adrian.

"If you trust appearances so willingly, you will not last long here."

Behind the bend an outcropping of houses came into view. Otherwise it appeared to be a normal midsized village, if it had not been the pungent wrongness in the air. Gabriel wrinkled his nose, even though it was more of a feeling than a real smell. Again the woman gave her a strange look, and then continued:

"In Vaseria nothing is as it seems."

Even though she was talking to Adrian, Gabriel could feel that the words were directed more at him, than his fellow knight. Eyeing the group distrustfully, she gave them a scornful look, then egging her horse into a trot; she disappeared between two run-down houses.

The Village was dominated by a large manor house. Gabriel could feel the gazes of the people on his back even though it seemed that no one was looking at the newcomers. He could feel it now, mixed beneath the wrongness, sadness and despair in the air. Beaumont was the first to move, guiding their party towards the stony steps of the house.

**x x x x x x x **

Anna pushed her heels to the side of her horse, urging the animal into the small alleyways between the houses. The rounded up through the village ending in the back entrance of the Valerious Manor. Simza appeared out of the kitchen door, as if sensing her presence. Her face was transformed into a furious scowl.

"What the damn are you doing back, girl!"

The whispered scream reached Anna's ears as she dismounted and she winced. Simza had a way of making anyone feel like they had committed the greatest sin. She rushed from the doorway, grabbing her elbow.

"Answer me!"

"I was followed."

She spit out, fury rising in her now.

"There are knights from the Vatican here! They killed Dragulia's men."

Simza was shocked into silence, staring at her in fear.

"How could you trust them! They could have been anyone!"

Her voice was hoarse, her hands balled into fists. Anna suspected she would very much like to hit her now, but was containing her temper at such a public place.

"I just knew."

She shoved the rains into the older woman's hands and moved to leave.

"Anna!"

Impatiently she shook her head.

"I need to tell Marcell to clean out the bodies."

She disappeared into the shadows on the side of the huge wall. Simza squeezed the leathery rains in her hands, willing her heart rate to slow down. New guests, she had to prepare for the new guests.

**x x x x x x x **

The furnace blew hot air in her face as Anna stepped into the smithy. Marcelle's huge arms gleamed in the low light as he worked on the anvil. She walked onto the bench laid next to the wall and sank down. In the heat of the room she let herself unwind; the panic and the fear and exhaustion slowly working through her body. She felt her hands shaking inside the sleeves of her too big coat. She felt the blacksmith sit next to her, but felt too tired to open her eyes. Gently his clumsy hand petted her hair.

"It is alright, Anna. It was unfair of us to ask that of you."

She shook her head, eyes still firmly shut.

"There was a band of knights on the road. Maybe four miles from the main gates. Dragulia's men had almost caught me. They killed them. Cut one's head clean off."

Her speech was choppy, each sentence dragged from her as if by force. She let out a long breath and opened her eyes. The fire smouldered bright and hot in the heart of the furnace.

"They come from the Vatican. Trying to save Dragulia's soul."

To that Marcell gave a dry bark of laughter. He got up from the bench and began taking off his leather apron.

"I guess I need to be going then."

Anna nodded; she needed to get back to the Manor before Simza killed herself with worry. She waved a half-hearted good-bye to the man and silently slipped out into the darkening evening.

**x x x x x x x **

The entrance hall was shadowy and a hunch-shouldered footman ushered them towards what Gabriel assumed was the dining hall. He could hear faint singing and the rowdy clank of goblets. The footman pushed the wooden doors wide open and announced their presence. At once a silence descended on the hall. Gabriel could see him, Dragulia, at the head of the giant table with a goblet in hand and a lazy indulgent smile gracing his face. He was not man of great stature, but something in his air made Gabriel wary. He had heard the tales of the Ottoman defeater, his heroics in defending the Holy Empire, as well as those of his unbearable cruelty. The smile faded now and a he greeted his new visitors with a polite half bow, but remained seated. He could feel Beaumont's fury at this insult and stepped forward from the band of Knights.

"I bring a greeting from the Holy Father. He has seen your struggle and you valour in the war against the godless Turks. We are Knights of the Order and we come to you in aid in this dark time."

Their eyes bore to each other, both men weighting the other. His eyes were cold and Gabriel could see the calculating intelligence, which so few men possessed, in Vladislaus Dragulia, _Vlad the Impaler_ as the pheasants called him. Part of Gabriel made the conscious choice of letting the cruelty he had often dished out in the battle field come to the surface. He wanted the Wallachian prince to see an equal in him, to gain his confidence. Dragulia's eyes were unreadable, but then he rose and greeted the Knight in a way befitting noblemen.

"I hail you Knights of the Order and gladly accept you noble offer. I demand that you remain here as my guests and enjoy the best of Wallachian hospitality."

A band of servants gathered around and cleared space around the long table. Plates and goblets appeared out of nowhere and before Gabriel could even remark on the swiftness of the serving they were already enjoying the excellent game and wine on offer. Throughout the meal Gabriel kept silent vigil of Dragulia. After their arrival the Prince had spared not two words to the newest members of his court. As always he could see the circles of trust, as if someone had drawn them physically in the air. The men closest were the ones vying for favour, for position. The trustees were in the centre, father away, fat and content in their power. The fine game turned ashen in his mouth each time his gaze passed that of the prince. He could feel the evil in him, could not point it or draw it out, but it was clear that Dragulia was influenced by much more that just the power of the Almighty.

Gabriel understood the Church's desperation in the fight against the Ottomans and against Mehmed the II, but now he feared they had gone too far. Dragulia was too close to the enemy. He had lived the early years of his life as a prisoner of truce in Mehmed's court and absorbed the customs and, most of all, the battle strategies of the Turks. The Order did not like this closeness to be remarked upon. They only basked in the glory of Dragulia's victories and blissfully ignored the rumours of his insanity.

The women entered silently and deftly from the side door, spreading around the rooms. Some of them moved to what Gabriel assumed to be men familiar to them and some lingered on the edges of the room. She entered last with her heavily embroidered dress and complicated head jewellery and outshone each other woman in the hall. Her steady steps lead her to the Prince, but he spared her no interest.

She lingered behind his chair, sometimes floating to the side into the Dragulia's field of vision and then back again. Her stark black hair and white complexion made her shine out among the women. She was clearly of high nobility, and the boyar girls flocked in her shadow. There was a coldness to her which Gabriel had never seen in any woman; not even the woman in the forest who had a kind of thick rage about her. This one was like a corpse, sucked dry from all the life by the closeness of the prince. They left the hall together, with his hand in the small of her back, leading her into the hallway. He looked back at them from the doorway, and once more Gabriel could, only for a moment, feel his evaluating gaze, before it disappeared into the dark.

The footman once again appeared by the table and they were lead to another wing of the house. All of the rooms were situated very close to one another in the east tower. Gabriel was surprised that Dragulia did not attempt to break them apart for better tactical advantage, but then again this move signalled of his complete faith in his control over his dominion. Gabriel's room was large, showing the prosperity of Dragulia's estate.

Meticulously he unpacked his weapons and cleaned each one of the grimes of the journey. This would have normally been the job of the squires which had travelled with them and taken residence in the servants' wing of the house. But Gabriel could not bring himself to lie down in the bed, which looked inviting and soft. He could not bring himself to relax in this house, with the nagging feeling in the back of his scull telling him he was in the presence of true evil.

**x x x x x x x **

The morning was crispy and cool, frost was still stubbornly lingering on the ground but Anna could smell spring in the air. She loved to do the morning chores, unlike the other maids, she did not mind the biting cold or the early wake-up. The fire was slowly beginning to kindle in the fireplace, bringing a slow glow to the kitchen. Silently she moved to the back door, walking to the storage buildings nestled together at the back of the house. She collected the dried meat, flour and eggs into her basket, preparing the kitchen for the cook when she finally woke up. She would have to come later to bring out one of the beer barrels.

The other maids began slowly streaming into the kitchen where they had their meagre breakfast of porridge and ale. Anna sat on the stairway listening to the other women's gossip with only half an ear. Soon she would have to start making her rounds of the rooms, clearing out laundry while the gentry dined. The horrible wailing woke her from her thoughts and made her spine stiffen. At first she thought the cook had taken the pig to the butchery a week early, but from the shouts she realised the screamer was human. She leaped off the step, pulling on her thick coat, and slid around the building to catch a glimpse of the central square.

The well was surrounded by Dragulia's men. She slid next to the building's walls, trying to hide herself in the shadows. The bellowing got more deafening the closer she got. Four of the black clad men were holding a balding man down as he desperately tried to escape from his clutches. She could see Dragulia wrapped in his warm furs on the steps of the manor. The movements of his hands were dismissing of the screaming man. Anna moved closer and saw the pole on the ground, sharpened and gleaming. She felt her stomach heave, but forced it back down. Her fear intensified as she saw their newest guest coming down from the manor. The men spread out around the square, watching the proceedings. She could see the tense shoulders and hands ready by the swords.

She slid in the shadows until right behind the man with the intense eyes.

"This is not the time."

She could feel him stiffen further, he did not turn around, but spoke silently into the cold air.

"I cannot just watch them kill this man."

Furiously Anna shook her head, even if she knew he could not see it.

"You must choose you battles wisely. If you fight today you will loose, and all of your men will be facing the poles."

He seemed to be on the verge of arguing back, but his fingers motioned the others to stand down. Anna could feel him shake with fury as they stripped the man and dragged him to the pole. Without any though of decorum she pushed her body flush against his back and curled her fingers around his arm.

"You must stand this. You have to hold fast and watch the death of innocents to protect what you believe must be done."

He seemed to sway in her half embrace, but nodded softly as the man's screams reached its pinnacle and the pole was inserted. Anna closed her eyes against his shoulder and whispered

"Meet me by the orchard down valley tomorrow morning and I will show you everything."

He felt the man's arm reach out for her hand and squeezed it as the pole was lifted upright. The servants had to serve Dragulia's breakfast outdoors; so he could enjoy the view better.

**x x x x x x x **

The day and night had been restless. All of the servants had been jumpy; fluttering around like a frightened flock of birds to fulfil their master's every command. The screams had died at mid-day, and Anna was grateful for it. She wrapped her coat more securely around herself, trying to get comfortable on the root she was sitting on. The man was late, but Anna knew that the gentry's idea of morning was very different from hers.

She rose to her feet when she heard his steps crunching on the overnight frost. He looked at her for a moment between the bare apple trees, and then nodded slightly. Anna motioned him to follow and lead him through the orchard. His steps were measured, but she could still feel the rage simmering beneath that controlled façade. She smiled grimly to herself; he will learn to live with the rage and the hopelessness before the summer is over.

"That man died overnight."

He was controlling his voice better that Anna would have thought. She just smiled sadly and shook her head.

"Usually it takes them a while to die. Marcell and the others went to the pole last night to aid his journey."

"They killed him!"

He sounded so truly shocked that Anna had to stop. She looked at his stricken face and dark eyes which looked at her like she had committed the most worst of sins, and in his eyes she probably had.

"Sir, we are a long way from Rome and its laws. We do not try to prevent suffering anymore, we cannot. We can merely shorten its length."

"How can you be so cold?"

Anna just shook her head a continued on. The trees were now thick around her, bare from the harsh winter, but she could still remember when there were leaves and the smell of death had hung in the air. As they reached the valley she could feel the man stop behind her.

Hundreds of poles rose from the ground. The remains of human corpses were wrapped around each one. The winter had eaten away most of the flesh what the wild animals had not cleared before the bodies froze. Anna continued down, closer to the strange tomb that the valley had become. The man did not follow her for a long time. She was nearly by the first bodies before she heard him move down the slope. She stood waiting as he reached her, face pale and drawn.

"It was last summer that Dragulia came. His father had long desired to journey to the holy City of Jerusalem and when he left, Dragulia came here to spend the summer months hunting and entertaining his knights."

She moved in between the bodies. The smell had long ago disappeared and most of them were barely skeletons anymore.

"Things began to change. The law began to change. Suddenly everything we did wrong was punishable by death. He brought the poles and we did not have the men to resist him. The neighbouring villages and clans decided to unite in attempt to stop him, but as you can see we failed. Most of the men are here. As are their wives and their children."

She could see him looking around, muted by the silence of the valley. Anna was used to it by now, embraced it. She had come here in the dead of night last year with Marcell and with few other survivors and had helped some of the children to die. It had not been silent then.

"I do not know about the Devil or if he has taken over Dragulia's soul. Nor do I know about God, but I highly doubt He lives here anymore."

"I am truly sorry."

His voice sounded parched and Anna nodded. This was not his fault.

"We came here to stop Dragulia, to bring him back from whatever darkness has clouded his mind. And we will."

He sounded so sure and strong, but Anna could see the hopelessness curling in his eyes now.

"You have only ten men with you. Dragulia has hundreds. The work that Marcell and the others, and me, have been doing in not about saving him."

Anna walked away from him, shielding her eyes with her hand from the rising sun.

"Are you willing to be a part of that? Are you willing to murder the protector of Rome if it must be done?"

Anna could see him looking at the bodies, his eyes seeing them as they were that sunny August morning last year.

"Look into you heart, sir Knight. If you are willing to go to war, come to the smithy after midnight. If not, wine and dine and enjoy the hospitality of Valerious castle, and leave."

**x x x x x x x **

The final warm rays of the sun were sinking below the horizon and the forest was lit-up in an eerie glow. Gabriel watched the gathered knights and felt the enormity of his task weighting on his shoulders. Beaumont would be a great help, but could he control his temper? Could he be as calculating and as cold as they needed him to be. Adrian was too soft. He was a court knight, groomed in the way of politics and poetry instead of battle and blood. He would be swayed by Dragulia's argument and their Order's plight. Gabriel knew that they could not fight against the Turks and against Dragulia. As a military man he knew that Wallachia was a lost cause. The armies of Mehmed had grown more bold and arrogant every year, but could he sacrifice the lives and land of these people for the capture of Dragulia?

The knights formed in a circle around Gabriel and Beaumont nodded for him to begin. As emotionlessly as possible he described the forest of impaled bodies he had seen yesterday and outlined briefly the meeting he had been summoned to. He could see the knights' suspicion and Tristan was the first to voice it.

"Can we trust these pheasants? You have heard how Dragulia has punished those disloyal to him. This meeting might just be a ploy to see if we are not loyal to the cause."

Gabriel could understand his concern; it had been plaguing his mind as well. He did believe the summons to be genuine. There had been something about the woman, Anna, which had made him believe without hesitation. However, Beaumont rose to agree with Tristan.

"I must agree that meeting with them now would be rash and too dangerous. We must watch and observe these people before we make our choice. To set ourselves into one alliance now would be foolish."

Gabriel had to agree. Allying with the pheasants now could be their death sentence.

"I need all of you to observe the servants in the castle. Who changes the bedding? Who is in the kitchen? We need to know our allies and those loyal to Dragulia's cause. I believe the servants are the key. They can go anywhere in the house and they overhear things. Some of you will also need to get close to Dragulia's mistresses."

To this especially David and Dathan grinned lasciviously. Their group silently separated, each knight making his way to the castle through a different route. Beaumont stayed behind his eyes measuring Gabriel for moments.

"What do you really believe?"

It was a strange question, but Gabriel guessed what he was speaking of. They had all seen the woman and all wondered about her.

"I believe that she speaks the truth, and that we need them to succeed in this task."

Surprisingly Beaumont grinned.

"So I am to assume that she is the one servant you will be observing, eh!"

**x x x x x x x **

The dreams had voices and colours which he could not see. They were not really colours at all, more like feelings, things unseen by his fickle eyes. The voices were huge, and vibrated in motion and not in sound. He shivered. There was a memory of power and understanding somewhere in the back of his mind but he could not grasp it. Sweaty and cold, Gabriel lay in bed. The dreams of battles and blood and dying horses he had learned how to control, and the times they pushed into his mind he knew how to push them back. These dreams were new. They were voiceless and nameless and terrible in a way Gabriel could not quite describe. He was not prepared when the slim form of the chamber maid slipped between the wooden doors carrying a huge basket. She disconcerted him more than anything had since his arrival into this strange land. Boldly she pushed his covers aside, making a space for herself on the bed. She seemed to have no concern for her virtue or reputation and for a moment Gabriel felt modest on her behalf. Her huge dark eyes stared at him from between the unruly curls and then she motioned towards the door.

"You did not come to the meeting."

Her tone was accusing and Gabriel felt like he needed to defend his choices to her.

"You need to learn about his men. Radu likes to drink and Dragulia trusts him more than any of the others. He likes to take the light haired scullery maid to his bed. You need to be done with him quickly."

Gabriel though of the slim young thing he had seen scuttling around Anna in the kitchen, and shuddered. Paying no heed to his repulsion she carried on, her voice low and urgent.

"Dragomir is the powerful one. He could lead the men. Dragulia respects him, but keeps spies on him. He fears him…"

Gabriel held up his hand to still the flood of words.

"I cannot help you in your quest. I was sent here to rescue these men. They are being tempted by the Devil. I cannot just leave them to be Dragulia's pawns or kill them without mercy."

Anna gathered her hair in a ponytail and secured it with a leather strap and nodded, spitting her words at him.

"Then you do what your God requires of you."

She got up from the bed and grabbed the basket.

"When will you see that some are beyond salvation? I am tired of you holy men and your holy quest when the blood is drawn from my people."

Her voice never rose in pitch, but the venom in her eyes made Gabriel shiver.

"My Lady, I cannot do what is against the code."

With force she tore down his sheets and quilts stuffing them into the basket. Her cheeks were coloured and her voice shook.

"Then you have condemned all of us and your men. Evil is very seductive, even to those most devout in their faith. If you cannot help us then you must leave."

Gabriel pushed himself up and out of the bed, which was slowly being torn apart by her rage.

"I cannot leave until my task in completed, my Lady."

She made a furious sound in the back of her throat and tore out from the room, leaving Gabriel in his nightshirt and without any bedding. Slowly he dressed and made his way into the dining hall for breakfast. He stood by the door for long moments looking at a man who he assumed to be Radu. He was the sole diner on the table. The skinny little servant girl was standing next to him with her hands braced on the table. Gabriel could see the man's thick arm disappearing into the back of the girl's skirt. Her face was turned away from him, her eyes squeezed shut. Gabriel wanted to draw his sword and fly to the girl's rescue, but he knew he could not. Slowly he walked into the hall, nodding politely to the man as he brazenly continued to defile the girl. He ate the bread and the meat and drank the strong ale, but tasted nothing of it. Radu slapped the girl on her behind after a while, and finally sent her on her way.

**x x x x x x x **

The smithy was nestled in one of the back streets, facing away from the manor. Gabriel wondered if this was intentional or if the forge had been built long ago. Then again, feuds between the guild merchants and nobility ran deep and had a long history. The door was slightly ajar and the pungent smell of melted metal had immersed into the wood. The room was dark and empty. The forge glowed darkly in the middle, with fire which was never truly put out. The dark and huge outline of the smith lumbered in the corner, but Gabriel knew he was not asleep. His eyes were luminous and threatening in the dark and he grunted and then moved into the back room. Gabriel followed him and was momentarily blinded by the light.

"I am to assume it was Anna who forced you here? I expected you earlier, but this will have to do."

The man's voice was low and hoarse, muffled by years of breathing by the forge. The room was small with a low, sloping ceiling. Rickety wooden benches were laid next to the walls and the smith sat down heavily in one shadowy corner. His eyes were piercing and Gabriel gave him a vicious glance, which in turn made the other man smile.

"The girl can be forceful, when need be. But I guess you are not used to that. Surrounded with noble ladies and such."

There was irony in his voice, and a gruff disapproval.

"You disapprove of Rome."

"I disapprove of all things which surround themselves with riches and guardians leaving their people defenceless to the punishments of the nobility's transgressions."

Gabriel had to look away. Few days ago he would have been ready to raise his hand in defence of the Holy City, but now with the blood of the impalement still clogging the back of his throat, he could do nothing but silently agree with the man.

"But you are not here to ease my dispute with the throne."

Sharply Gabriel turned his gaze back to the man. He could now see the lines on his face, the etchings of memory of past horrors. Suddenly Gabriel felt tired, bone weary. He had no desire to be a saviour to these people.

"What do you need me to do?"

**x x x x x x x **

Gabriel stood to the side of the hall, watching his men with detached eyes. The hour was late and most of the women in the hall had lost their clothing many hours ago. He scanned the inebriated crowd and tried to find a girl who would be at least older than fourteen. In the corner of his eye he could see Beaumont, with a tankard of ale in his hand and two very well endowed boyar girls on each knee, clearly enjoying himself. Gabriel understood perfectly the necessity for their actions. It had after all been his idea. They would go along with everything. They would throw themselves into the life of the Prince and slowly take his court from the inside. And he would be calling himself a hypocrite if he claimed he did not enjoy the warm and willing bodies warming his bed each night, but amidst the drinking he would catch glimpses of the small and skinny young girls brought over from the village for their entertainment. He would sometimes think that he could see the hunger in the faces of his friends as well; to take something pure and untouched and to sully it.

Dragulia would always get the first choice. He could select the best and the rest would be left to the men. The woman of unnatural beauty, Verona as Gabriel had learned to know her, would silently stand by his throne and follow him into their bedchamber with the other girls. Sometimes the Prince would look right at him through the crowd, and Gabriel would think that he knew somehow. That he was aware of all the vows Gabriel was breaking and was silently rejoicing in some unnamed victory.

The summer took them all by surprise. The warm air flooded the valley erasing the memory of the frost which had still lingered. The warmth made the men even more ravenous. They hunted like madmen at high summer. Deer and boar was plentiful in the surrounding forest and the bloodlust of these seasoned warriors was unquenchable. They were men used to the battlefield and the thin tents which separated them from the enemy at night. Now they could only state their lusts in the bodies of the women crowding the hall at night and into the corpses of the game which had lived in the forest in peace throughout the long cold winter.

The forest was lush and green, the foliage hiding all of Dragulia's past transgressions, allowing the men to hunt with a clear conscience. Gabriel felt the beast between the trees; its black eyes watching him intently as if revealing some intelligence in the boar's primitive mind. His arm moved on instinct a thick blade of the sabre slicing open the boar's side. The animal did not even move away from the blow. It fell onto its side, legs twitching helplessly. Gabriel watched its struggle with hunger he could not will away.

The wounds of the animal were fatal, but not enough to take its life immediately. Its breathing was laboured and Gabriel could not take his eyes away from its struggles. The blood was rich and pungent in the air. Gabriel pushed his hand against the animal's ribcage and felt as its heart slowed down and then stopped. His palm felt cold against the animal's skin even though the blood was still warm. Suddenly Vladislaus pulled him up grasping his bloody hand in his own.

"You are one of us now, brother."

He smiled, with warmth that seemed unnatural in his face.

"It is the blood that binds us, death around us that solidifies our union."

Then he laughed, grasping Gabriel around the shoulder.

"Come now my friend, we have much wine to drink and women to entertain."

And Gabriel smiled at his words.

**x x x x x x x **

It was easy for Gabriel to fall into the rhythm of life of the castle. Wine and soft bodied women weakened his resolve and Dragulia was a constant and playful presence by his side. It all had become a game and it was easy; Gabriel had himself ordered it so. The Prince provided them with ample entertainment and above all he condemned nothing. Once in his good grazes the men could do very little wrong. The crimes from which Gabriel had seen men hanged in Rome were in Dragulia's court rewarded with the most lewd of prizes.

Part of Gabriel could recognise the ingenious tactics of Dragulia, but he could not help but be swayed by it. Here he could push back the teachings of Rome, could let his true nature shine through. It was not way of a battle hungry Knight to pay curtsey to the laws of the church. He had not been trained to be placid or obedient and it had been long since he had been allowed to rely on his baser instincts; to kill without morale and restraint. And he wanted it, wanted the blood to spill and pool to the wounds. Dragulia had a way of giving you everything you had ever hoped for, just in ways which you could never forget.

Anna was dragged to the gathering of men outside the stables. Dragulia had heard that a new flock of geese had taken refuge in the near-by pond and insisted the men take their bows and arrows to try their luck immediately. Annoyance was now shining from his face. Dragulia turned to the small procession and eyed the dishevelled woman held captive by the guards. From behind them emerged Sergiu, one of the men Gabriel had seen near the Prince vying for favour. He was pressing a rag onto a long gash on his face.

"I want her dead."

His voice was venomous and Anna spit into his face. Gabriel could see the humiliation shine off Sergiu's face and knew Dragulia could too.

"So, Sergiu. You cannot even handle a chamber maid. I do wonder how you will handle the Turkish army."

The men laughed, some eyeing Sergiu with scorn. Gabriel could hear someone muttering how a perfectly good afternoon could be sullied by a reluctant chamber maid. Sergiu clenched his fists impotently; he could nothing else in the face of his master's mockery.

"She denied me."

There was triumph in his voice and Gabriel felt fear slowly creep into his chest. Dragulia looked pensive and eyed the not so distant forest path longingly.

"It is an offence to deny my guests anything. As you know. And the sentence of your denial should be death."

The last part he directed straight at Anna, and Sergiu smiled viciously. But Dragulia eyed the man's scarred face with amusement.

"But I do admire her resilience in protecting her chastity. So it will be the whip instead. Tie her up!"

Anna started struggling at once, but the heavy guards dragged her towards the barge. Her hands were tied and then the rope was looped around the pole, forcing her arms above her head. He knew she could see him from the corner of her eye, but Gabriel could not make himself move. For a moment he though he could see gratitude in her face.

Blood was running in rivers down her legs and colouring the dusty earth dark brown, her legs, which had stood firm on the ground, were beginning to shake as each lash of the whip tore a hoarse scream from her throat. It was only the power of Marcell's ox-size arms that held Gabriel in place. He could see tears and spit running down her chin, making it hard for her to breathe. Another lash, and another scream, and part of him feared that she would not live through this. After long agonizing minutes Dragulia waved his palm in the air, hailing the end of the punishment. Sergiu rolled the bloody whip up; eyeing Anna's torn back with satisfaction. Dragulia's party and the guards began making their way back to the manor; some laughing and commenting on the whipping, others more silent, eyes darting back towards the barge.

Marcell made his way to her, Gabriel not far behind, but having to hide himself in the crowd. When he saw the last of Dragulia's guards disappearing back into the house he darted across the square, where Marcell was already talking to her in hushed tone. Closer, Gabriel could see her entire body shaking, even though her feet were steady now. She kept shaking her head at Marcell, squeezing her hands tighter around the ropes. Suddenly he motioned to Gabriel.

"Hold on to her as I cut the ropes."

His voice was hushed and Anna still kept shaking her head. Gently as he could Gabriel wrapped his arms around her legs trying to give her as much support as possible without touching the flesh of her back. With care they helped her to the smithy, where Marcell instantly began to push more heat into the forge.

She was grouched over a work-bench, her legs had finally given in. Marcell was eyeing the flayed skin in the light of the torches, face worried.

"I think we might have to scorch the deeper cuts."

Gabriel could see Anna's entire frame flinching, but she nodded. Marcell pushed a flat ended piece of long metal into the furnace. With his head he motioned to Gabriel.

"Make yourself useful and give her leather to bite on. And hold on to her shoulder so she does not move around too much."

Gabriel could not tear his eyes from the bloody rivulets adorning the woman's back, and shuddered at the carelessness of the smith's words. He folded a piece of thick leather from the back and made his way back to Anna. Her hands were gripping the legs of the bench, eyes darting around the room. Gabriel touched her face, it was an instinctive gesture and her eyes stilled and connected with his own. She bit into the leather, bowing her head down. Gabriel palmed her shoulders trying to avoid any cuts, but she flinched none the less. He buried his face next to her ear.

"Anna… It is going to be…"

He did not know how to finish, but she nodded against his shoulder. Over her shoulder Gabriel saw the red hot metal gleaming in the darkened room and squeezed a little tighter. The first burn made her lunge forward, a strangled howl escaping the leathery bit. With his own body weight Gabriel stopped her from escaping and Marcell burned another cut. After the fifth one she was panting and Gabriel could feel her quavering. It was no longer the shaking from the yard. He had seen it when hunting sometimes. Small creatures, when cornered or dying they did not try to fight. They just curled up and shivered. He motioned Marcell to stop and ran his hands over her arms.

He though about the boar and how it shook lying on its side, blood pooling around its body. He had seen the creature's wish of death. He had still tasted its blood in his mouth and denied its wish. In Anna's eyes he could see the boar and he would never forgive himself. But then she touched his brow with a shaking hand and there was such softness in her eyes.

"It will be forgiven, in time."

Like she knew and saw all of his trespasses. Suddenly Gabriel understood; they had tied her down, like the boar. She was meant for the wilderness and each time she bit the leather channelling her pain, a part of him died.

**x x x x x x x **

Maybe Dragulia could feel that things had shifted, or maybe it had nothing to do with Gabriel, but with something inside the man himself. His eyes turned colder, more calculating. The girls and even Verona were left outside his bedroom at nights. He stopped eating, the food on his plate merely spread around. If those most loyal to him noticed, they did not draw attention to it.

The first time it happened it was an early august evening. They had all dined and drank their fill, but no girls appeared from the side-door and some of the men were beginning to look displeased. Dragulia sprung up from his chair hissing:

"Is that why you are all here? For the skinny cunts from the village? Have you all forgotten the godless army of the Turks hungering for out land? For I have not."

Dragomir rose at his words, countenance angry.

"How dare you accuse us! Us, the most loyal to you. I have shed blood by your side in each campaign. It is you who has forgotten how we were crushed the last."

Dragulia pushed through the horde of men and grabbed Dragomir by the lapels of his jacket. He shook the other man, but Dragomir grasped his writs squeezing in retaliation.

"I have not forgotten, my brother. You insolent son of a whore."

Gabriel and Beaumont pulled the men apart before the cursing begot a mass-scale row. Dragulia felt cold and vile against Gabriel's grasp, but he could not let the enraged man go.

"I am offering you salvation, how blind are you not to see it!"

"You offer us nothing but magic tricks!"

Dragulia tore himself away from Gabriel his face red and furious.

"Oh, you will follow me brother. You will bow to my magic, and you will bow to me."

He stormed out of the hall and all of the men could do nothing but follow. They were compelled to. They descended into a burial crypt beneath the manor and beneath ground. The Prince stood there, immobile, eyeing the tombs of his forebears.

"I will not let my father return into conquered land. I will not."

In the centre of the cavernous room a black slab of stone had been polished and it gleamed in the darkness.

"You are all men of God. But God is not on the side of conquerors. I have made the sacrifice. Now you must stand here by me and receive him."

Gabriel could see his face, pallid and horrible. He could see the demon peeking through the façade of a man. And could do nothing. He felt Tristan tense behind him, but held the other man back.

"Oh, Knight of the Holy City of Rome, our work is only beginning. Now I will show you a way to push back the army of the Turks forever."

The body of the little girl was limp, but as the men carried her past him Gabriel could tell that she was still breathing. From the corner of his eye he could see Adrian moving closer, eyes fixed on the little body. The ritual was brief, and the words slid around Gabriel's head like water in his ear. He watched as the girl groggily came out of her unnatural sleep and watched as Dragulia plunged a knife in her abdomen.

He felt like he was on his knees for hours retching until his stomach felt concaved and empty. He forced himself to move, stumbling into his room. The bed felt coarse and the blankets suffocated him in his sleep. Near dawn Gabriel sobbed, curled around his blanket like some kind of animal. He could not stop the tears, just as he could not stop a new day and a new ritual. After breakfast Anna came in and shooed him out of the bed, and Gabriel dressed mechanically. She forced him to eat and hugged him fiercely as she sent him out to greet the others in the courtyard.

**x x x x x x x **

The obsidian gleamed in the darkness and Gabriel felt his stomach heave. The bright sharp smile in Dragulia's face made him scold his features into a lazy smile. The steady flow of blood began to slow down and then stopped completely. Gabriel stood impassive as Dragulia swooped down on the body and shoved his hand into the wound. The blood seemed almost black in the low light. There was such bliss on his face as he slowly sucked the blood off his fingers.

Gabriel stumbled in the shadow of the corridor his stomach clenching and hands shaking. Seven, he had seen seven until now. He could no longer account for the episodes as mere repulsion. He had seen this over and over again and his constitution had been schooled in many battles before this. Corpses, even those of children did not shake him. But he could not fight the clogging, ashy taste of evil from his throat. It returned with more force each time, no matter ho much wine or ale he consumed to erase it. Each time it grew, like someone was opening a door, little more each time, letting in dusty, sandy air. Desperately he clutched the iron handle of his chamber door, unable to open it. The shakes were getting worse and Gabriel bit his lip until it bled.

The steps behind him were soft, nearly inaudible, but somehow ever since the first day he could always sense the woman's presence. Anna's work-roughened hands pushed his hair away from his face and he could see the worried expression on her face. She pushed the door open for him and Gabriel limped to the bed. Silently she pulled the basket of dirty linen into the room and shut the door. He could still see some stiffness in her movements, some hint of the injury. Dragulia had pushed her into work the very next day, but Gabriel knew most of the kitchen maids had taken over some of her duties. She pushed the tapestries away from the window and cold night-air filled the room.

She had come to work the very next day, pushing her basket into his room. Her face had been ashen and she had nearly collapsed on the floor. Gabriel had tried to help her into his bed, but she had stated crying as he attempted to lift her. So he had let her be and stripped the bed himself folding the linen into the basket. She had lain on the ground for a long while. Gabriel nearly went to get another servant, but she rose up and thanked him. Laboriously shed had pulled the basket against her side and continued with her duties. Gabriel had watched as she limped down the corridor.

Now she poured water from the jug and forced him to drink. Gabriel's throat fought, but she was persistent and in the end his body merely gave in. Between the coughs he managed to gasp:

"Anna…"

Her fingers grazed his cheek and she pushed more water at him.

"I cannot do this."

"Yes you can."

Her voice was so sure, so relentless in her belief that he would conquer the beast in the end. He often wondered if defeating evil truly was worth all this; worth all the suffering and the ash in his mouth. But her hands were on his face again, long thin fingers petting his brow.

"I will stay, if you wish it."

Her voice was soft and her hands gentle. He could feel the throbbing in his limbs lessen and silently nodded. She pushed herself higher on the mattress, back resting against the ornately carved headboard. There was something calming in the way the bed sank with the weight of her body. Her hands kept their steady pace, but she refused to look at him, keeping her eyes fixed towards the window.

"I see the women come and go each night."

Gabriel could hear the worry in her voice, the soft underlying tension, fear maybe.

"Do they help? Do they make it easier? This pretence you are living."

Gabriel thought back on the nights of banquets and of game and hunting. He was weak and a sinner and he could not make himself a liar in her eyes.

"Yes, yes they do."

He could barely recognise the coarse voice as his own. Anna's hands stilled for a moment and then her weight lifted as she left the bed. Gabriel waited for the creak for the hinges of the door, but it never came. He turned onto his side. Anna stood next to the bed with her coarse wool dress pooled around her feet. She was by no means perfect, too skinny to be truly beautiful. Her ribs jutted out at an angle and some red burn marks adorned her upper arms, but Gabriel still could not breathe.

"I asked you to do this. I asked you to betray all which you believed in. You can have this; it is the only thing of value I can give you."

Gabriel knew he should have declined, he should have sent her on her way, but the temptation of oblivion was too great, so he nodded. She crawled into the bed and lay down, as he pulled his clothes off. Anna spread her legs for him, eyes dancing around the room, like she was not quite sure what to do with herself. It was easy to take her, to sink into her body. But she gasped in pain and turned her face away from him. He mumbled his apologies into her neck and pulled out swiftly which made her flinch even more, but her hands made to pull him back on top of her and her face was strained.

"No, no. Go back. It will be alright."

But he knew she was lying, her eyes were so grateful and he pushed her to lie down. She slumped back against the sheets as if there were no point in arguing with him.

Her legs were still open and he let his fingers run over her, slipping between the folds, not really knowing what he was doing. Her breath was harsh, eyes clenched shut. Gabriel could remember the loud shrieks of the other women, and they sounded false to his ears now. He stroked her with his thumb and she jerked like a puppet on a string with a little whine.

Gently he pressed his lips to her mound, pushing his tongue where his fingers had travelled, folding her open even more. She made a slightly horrified noise and tried to pull him away by his hair, but Gabriel would not be deterred. He pressed kisses against her stomach, letting his hands gentle her sides. He could feel the rough ends of the scars against his fingertips. Her eyes were huge and uncertain, hands fisted in the bedding.

He pushed his fingers into her and could not help the thought; _I have been here, I hurt her this way_. She had closed her eyes again, head rolled back, lost in her own world. He pressed his mouth against her again and her heels pushed into his back almost painfully. He could feel her clenching around his fingers, and it just made him push more and longer. Her entire back curved off the bed, hips desperately pushing against his hands. She swore in a way Gabriel had never heard before.

There was softness around her eyes now, and a lazy tilt to her smile. She pulled him up flush against her breasts, and pulled him in with ease. She bit his shoulder and moved against him with clear intent. And he thought back to the communions of every Sunday. He remembered the holy rites and lifted her knee higher around his body. _Drink this wine for it is my blood_. She would not let got of his gaze, would not let him close his eyes; again, like she knew. _Take this body for it is the only thing I can give you_.

After Anna lay still among the sheets; allowing his hands to travel over the scars, mapping their geography.

"I am sorry that I hurt you."

"We all hurt each other, Gabriel. Just in different ways."

It was the first time she had said his name and Gabriel willed her to say it again, but she had opened her eyes and was watching him.

**x x x x x x x **

The days bled into one another, in his mind they became fantasies, memories which never happened. The warmth of the summer began to wane from the air and the mornings became chilly and misty once more. He would kill and spill the blood of the innocent and of the young. Dragulia would watch the movement of Gabriel's knife, his eyes cold and unreadable, but somehow so very pleased. In the early morning hours she would live in his bed and Gabriel would worship her body with fervour he had once reserved only for his God. He would pour all that was evil and twisted into her and Anna would consume it and not be shaken.

He would watch her in the castle and by the apple orchard where the maids were collecting the year's crop. He sometimes wondered if he was hurting her, if all the pain he pushed into her somehow manifested in flesh. But each night she seemed fine, and looked on him with hunger he could never fully understand. She was ravenous and bony under his hands; always seeking her own pleasure before concerning herself with him. The scars were thick like snakes, coiled under his palm and she no longer flinched away from his touch. Maybe it was the evil that she craved. He watched as the thick skin of the whip marks cracked and bended in the moonlight and wondered if he did too.

The men were growing distant with each other, all trying to cope, trying to find meaning in what they were doing. Gabriel did not have the strength to pull them together anymore. Maybe he did see the betrayal in Adrian before, but would not allow himself to act on it. Maybe his faith in his men had been so blind that he had failed to see what Anna had warned him of. Evil was seductive. It offered easy answers and Hell always extracted a heavy price for its services.

They dragged Gabriel out of his bed before he had time to wake properly. Blindly his hands grasped to protect Anna, but she was no longer there. He twisted his forearm around one of the hands holding him and with a slight crack pulled the man's arm out of its socket. Someone punched him in the nose for that and he could feel blood beginning to dribble into the back of his throat. He landed a few good hits before one of the men slammed his elbow into the back of Gabriel's head and everything went black for a moment. They dragged him thorough the halls into the dungeons below ground. He saw Beaumont prostrate on the ground and the brothers bloody and furious in the next cell. The only one missing was Adrian. He was standing beside Dragulia and his face was smooth and cold, his gaze cast towards his new master.

"You must be so proud of yourself, you little shit weasel."

Tristan's icy voice echoed in the low hallway. Gabriel could make out the he was further away than the rest. He must have put up a hell of a fight. Adrian only smiled.

"Tristan, how could you possibly understand? You have always been burdened by your faith in Rome."

"You defy your God, Adrian?"

Gabriel spit through his split lip.

"Oh, my brother, it is all about to change. It is not God who will reign here for much longer."

They took the torches and blew out the candles on the way out, plunging the cave into darkness. Gabriel lay on the ground, the cold of the stone seeping into his side.

**x x x x x x x **

Anna ran down the hall. The main doors had been thrown wide open and she could see the church and the priests impaled outside. Blood pooled on the ground and slid down the poles like rain. She had to get Gabriel. Maybe it was already too late. The hand came out of nowhere, knocking the breath out of her. Sergiu's face smiled down at her through his refined beard. His hands were strong and harsh as he forced her through the door into the dining hall. The dozens of faces looked at her with hunger and disgust. Sergiu's hand tightened around her torso.

"I think that you and I have a score to settle."

The first blow made her fall to her knees, blood dribbling down her chin.

**x x x x x x x **

Adrian watched the limp face of the boy as he was spread over the sanctified altar of the village church. _It is the power of God that shall bring Him forth_. And he smiled. Dragulia strode around the boy, letting his fingers now and again graze the boy's skin.

"Bring the smelling-salt. I want him awake for this."

His voice, even to Adrian's ears, sounded cold, but he was beginning to like the cold. The bolt of the arrow was so sudden all of the men jumped. The wooden, feathered end was gruesomely sticking out of Dragulia's arm.

The men pounced on Marcell before he had time to realise his failure. The fight was short lived as the blacksmith's head rolled down the aisle, leaving a pearl-like string of blood in its wake.

**x x x x x x x **

_Gabriel_

Gabriel did not know how long he had lay in the darkness. But his form was filled with the voice. It reverberated in each muscle and joint. And he could rise up.

_Gabriel_

He could feel the scars of his back spreading and opening like craters, and power came from within, a sword and light. It illuminated the dungeon and as he touched the bard they melted away into red puddles like the forge. He saw as his companions shielded their eyes, he saw as they prayed and he saw as Beaumont rose to his feet.

Gabriel could feel the tainted son upon the earth as he had done aeons ago. The memory of a million years rushed back and filled his mind until he knew everything. The square was empty and the church was black as night. And the son of the Morningstar walked now among men and Gabriel saw him on the steps white and with his black wings reaching for the sky.

They circled one another, creatures of flesh they were; but Gabriel could see him beyond the confides of the physical. The darkness etched into the lines of his body, the promises and vows he had made. Dragulia was the one to draw first blood and it swelled bright against Gabriel's arm. They were men as much as they were divine creatures here, but he could feel the pressure in his head from something much more powerful than himself.

He felt the pain of Dragulia's blows and saw the blood running down his limbs. The sword in his hand was light and filled with memory. It brought flashes of fiery rain and water upon the earth, but it belonged to him and in the end Dragulia would never be a match for him. He would never master the power because he was not born of it. And the Morningstar was greedy above all things and never gave anything for free. He did not kill Dragulia, but struck him into oblivion.

The church was black, the tendrils of dankness slithering on the ground and into the trees. He stepped in and felt revulsion, a physical detestation. He saw the boy; ribcage open and spread out towards the sealing. _Sacrifice_. The portal was still open and he could feel the Other and his armies right on the other side. He tried to close it but he held no power in Hell or sway over the fallen.

He felt Beaumont and Tristan. They moved cautiously, swords drawn. Gabriel wanted to tell them that what ever came through could not be defeated by swords or spears. Beaumont touched the boy.

"They took a life."

There was dark promise in his voice and Gabriel could not help as something greater than himself spoke through him.

"So life must be willingly given."

There was a second where Gabriel could have stopped him, but in the end he did not want to. Beaumont stepped into the black and pushed his sword into his own heart. Gabriel fell to the floor. The black collapsed into itself with a whine. Pain seared in his mind and blood poured over his shoulders and the divine left. He sobbed and screamed until he could no more and Tristan's sure and strong hands pulled him up.

The yard seemed strangely orderly, only Dragulia's body lay on the middle. Daniel and Dathan lifted the body and tied him to the barge. He seemed pale and diminished somehow, slumped over like that. Then the screaming started. And Gabriel tore into the castle. The remaining men were at the door of the dining hall; pushing the wood ferociously. Caleb did not seem injured but still he swayed on his feet.

"Dragulia's men are still in there, locked up and battle ready."

Gabriel pressed against the door and though; _Anna_. He felt her and her despair and finally the wood gave in.

Bodies of the large warriors were strewn around the room as if mangled by wild beasts; the putrid smell of blood and entrails clouded the room like a fog. Anna was on her hands and knees in the middle, screaming. Gabriel fought through the bodies to get to her but she flinched away from him arms. Her hair and clothes were caked in blood, slick and bright red. Shakily she rose to her feet and for a moment Gabriel though he could see something ancient and terrible peek from beneath her eyes, but it was gone before he could catch it.

He watched as she bathed in a giant tub made for the mistresses of the house. He would not let her get away even for a moment and she did not seem to mind. Her hair straightened in the water and slicked back. She pushed her milky flesh beneath the water and watched as it turned red and pushed on the bruises and cuts on her legs as if seeing them for the first time. Some of the women had tried to enquire whether she had been violated, but Anna had laughed and shaken her head sadly. It was easy for Gabriel to sink into her and push back the memories of the day. They overwhelmed him and made his joints ache. Anna stood naked under his gaze as the servants wrapped her in white sheets. She seemed different, the scars having sunk into her skin. The white bath-sheets coloured red and seemed somehow fitting for her now.

In Verona's room she was dressed in red thick gowns and jewellery and furs as their rightful mistress watched apathetically from the window.

"I want to take you to Rome with me. I want to make you my wife."

He looked at her via the mirror and briefly she closed her eyes as if in denial.

"I will come with you Gabriel Protector and I will be you wife."

He touched her then, just lightly on the back of her neck, the only place not covered by fabric and gold and she felt like ice under his palm.

**x x x x x x x **

Dragulia still walked with pride as Gabriel forced him to finally face his people. There was still something these people needed to see, to witness to fully understand their freedom. He forced the Prince onto his knees and pushed his hand on the wooden execution slab. Isolating his middle finger, his ring finger for all to see. The men held him in place when Gabriel swung the axe; even though Gabriel suspected he would have held still. It was still a contest of wills and Gabriel could not help but feel like he had lost.

They burned the stump afterwards so it would not get infected. Gabriel wrapped the ring and the detached finger into a shroud to be taken back to Rome. Dragulia was imprisoned into the cells of his own house. In the end Gabriel made Dragomir the stand-in ruler of Vaseria because he had not been at the church or killed in the dining hall and because Gabriel had no other choice. He prayed for the future of these people, but could not bring himself to hope for a better life. The Turks would come and take the land now that the Impaler was gone.

It was early in the morning when their diminished band of knights finally bid goodbye to Wallachia. Anna stood beside him gently petting the muzzle of her horse.

"They say that he is still possessed. They say that the devil will never leave him. He craves the blood of others."

Her voice was strangely hollow and she looked upon her old home with slight anger.

"Pheasant tales."

To that she smiled, but her eyes remained serious.

"He will come back, Gabriel. And you better be ready then."

Gabriel looked at his wife in all but name, and felt chilled, but it passed as they left the Village of Vaseria behind. When they reached Rome autumn had come over the Holy City and all the leaves were brown upon the earth.

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Thank you to everyone who has read this far. I can see that blackmail didn't work so I'm resorting to begging: Please, please leave a review and tell me what you think.


	4. the Circle: part 3

Part 3

* * *

And now I speak to you are you in there

You have her face and her eyes

But you are not her

And we go at each other like blankettes

Who can't find their thread and their bare

Can't stop loving

Can't stop what is on its way

And I see it coming

And it's on its way

Tori Amos, "Bells for Her"

* * *

Outskirts of Rome, August 1889

Gabriel clutched the letter against his palm as he was led through the house. He had seen a few wedding parties, but in none had the houses been this empty. As they began to approach the rear end of the house music began to echo in the stones. A circle of firelight lit the darkened yard. Huge tables had been carried out and people milled about. He could see the bride and groom sitting in the middle, nodding to the passing guests.

His eyes were drawn to the six women dancing in the middle. In a complicated swivel of steps and claps they danced, their heavy skits swishing above the sand. He remembered that Anna had been an accomplished dancer and was not surprised to recognise her laughing face in the circle. Gabriel's guide motioned for him to wait by the door as he moved through the dancers. She stopped in mid-twirl, shooting a venomous glance at Gabriel. She could not really see him through the fire, but her glare seemed to find him anyway. She excused herself from the group and made her way to the door. With a thick black skirt reaching her calf and her chest bound in a red bodice, Gabriel realised this was the first time he had seen her in a dress voluntarily.

"What do you want? I presumed that the matter of the painting was resolved."

Her voice was tired and Gabriel felt bristled.

"Yes, it was resolved. Or buried more like it."

He tore open the letter addressed to her and read out:

"_The Order would like to advice you that the matter to which you were called to attend seven days previously has been resolved internally and we no longer require your participation_."

He gave Anna a tight-lipped scowl.

"_Respectfully yours, Cardinal Jinette_. Or did you actually think they were going to let anything be resolved, be discovered? I had to pull this from a messenger."

It seemed like Gabriel was not even talking to her anymore, as if he had been transported into a different time altogether.

"As if Jinette would ever give more that scraps of my past. Hauling me around like a dog on a leash."

The last words were punctuated with scorn. Anna looked away, eyes following the line of the dancers as they gathered more people to join the festivities.

"He needs you. He thinks that if you know you will leave. He thinks that the only obligation holding you to the Order is your need for resolution, for knowledge."

Her eyes were dark and Gabriel could not read the expression on her face.

"They buried the painting and the drawings like they were nothing. Made them disappear into the bowels of the library."

"And you believe otherwise. You think that there was something there, some link to your past."

It was not a question and some of the hostility had gone out from her eyes, and Gabriel nodded.

"I think I need to show you something."

She led him through the house. An old woman passed them in one of the corridors. Gabriel could see the ill in her eyes as they passed and she hissed something at Anna, which made her freeze. He was ready to defend her honour even if he did not know what was said, but with a speed of a striking snake she grabbed the woman's arm and shoved her roughly against the wall. Anna pressed her face very close to the woman's and hissed something back at her. Gabriel could not understand the language, but could recognise Gyorgy's name from her low speech. After a tense moment she violently pushed the woman away and she scurried down the hall and out of sight. Swiftly she moved on and Gabriel jogged to keep up with her.

"What the hell was that?"

Anna merely moved on as if he had not spoken.

"Anna!"

They entered a well-lit study and she turned to face him.

"She called me a whore. I am her queen and she called me a whore."

"Why?"

She shook her head in disbelief.

"Oh you know very well why, Gabriel."

He looked away and her voice softened a notch.

"But I did bring it onto myself."

She smoothed her hands down her bodice and smiled a little.

"Among my people women do not wear red. Well at least if they wish to be seen as honest. Only brides are allowed to wear red and that only to signify that they are still a virgin."

She moved deeper into the room, which was filled with travelling trunks half unpacked and hundreds of books. There was something very familiar about their smell and feel.

"It was an easy way for me to show the noble _men_ that I am indeed unsuited to be a wife."

Anna stressed the word men so subtly he almost missed it and then she smiled as if she did not quite believe her reasoning herself, so Gabriel let the matter go with a nod of his head. Anna walked to an uneven pile of parchment balancing precariously on the edge of the huge desk caressing the books lovingly as she went.

"This is all of my family's things from Vaseria. A new family will be taking over the grounds this fall. I am to live here permanently now."

She waited for him to respond, but Gabriel had nothing to say so she continued.

"Among the books and papers came a folder of personal correspondence of Decebal Valerious, which I had never seen or had any access to. You know him as Valerious the Elder. It has some letters which you will probably find very interesting. He wrote many letters to his steward from his journeys in Jerusalem. And one from Italy when he came to Rome to ask for forgiveness for the sins of his son."

She fingered the papers unsure and then gently folded open a worn and torn parchment and began translating haltingly:

"_I had much whished to deliver my deepest thanks upon the man, Gabriel, who imprisoned and conquered my son, and to hail the lady, Anna who aided him. I have been told that she is now the respected Lady Protector of the Knights of the Holy Order. However, during my travels in Rome I found neither. She had been slain mere moths ago. The priests refused to speak of it, but I discovered she had been brutally butchered near the royal stables of the Vatican. To my horror I found that she was with child. I paid my respects to her tomb and prayed salvation upon her and her babe._"

Anna smoothed the thick paper against the leather of the folder.

"The names are our names, but they were very common at the time. One thing I find strange that there is no mention of marriage. If she truly was with child it would have been a grave scandal in the society of Rome. It is strange that there would be no other records of them."

Anna studied the letter, voice truly curious. Gabriel was silent. Just for a second he though he could feel the putrid smell of blood in the back of his nose.

"Anna… have you thought about…."

"I do not want to talk about it!"

The change in her demeanour was sudden; voice venomous now and with a snap she continued to read:

"_The man, Gabriel, sick with grief, had escaped to Sicily. And it is from these shores that I write to you my dear friend. For I am again too late to give my thanks. Gabriel passed on early this morning, mere hours before my arrival. His body had withered, but I could still see the stature of a great man and I hope my prayers will hasten his journey to heaven._"

She would not look at him and Gabriel felt shamed. He did not really know why. The child had been his as well, and he wanted share in on her grief, but maybe that was too personal.

"I'm sorry. I should not have brought that up."

She nodded:

"_Now I must conclude and return to Vaseria to deal with my son. He is deserving of a great punishment, but watching the light play on the ocean I wonder if I am man enough to deliver it onto him. _

"And the rest of the story we know. His father locked him into a tower of ice and then the Devil gave him wings. I asked Gyorgy to look around the city archives for any information, but there was nothing left. Rome has been sacked so many times, most documents have been lost."

Carefully she folded the papers and pushed them inside a leather folder.

"I have no more answers for you Gabriel. I must return to the party now."

"I cannot let this go Anna. And I think you know why. I think you feel it too. I think you taste the blood and smell the putrid earth."

"You think I am her. You think that if we opened that grave I would lie there."

She would not look at him, eyes turned away. Gabriel nodded and he knew she would feel it. He watched as she returned to the party, easily navigating among her own people. But it was too late to return to them now. Gabriel had seen her in that painting; had seen her eyes watching him from canvas and paint.


	5. Epilogue

Epilogue

The Vatican, October 1881

Jinette stood by the stranger's bed and watched the man breathe. His wounds had been cleaned and stitched and they had stopped bleeding almost instantly. The healers were amazed the healing rate, but Jinette remained silent. This man was a gift to them, that much he knew.

When he had been chosen to be the new head of the Knights of the Holy Order a chest had been passed to him. It contained a letter written in Arameac, the language of Christ, and it had spoken of a man that would come. He would bear great wounds and great power. He would have no memory and he was meant to be the agent of the Almighty. But he would be fallible like all men. And Jinette knew that the flesh of man was weak and corruptible. He knew he should feel thankfulness towards his predecessors, he should be grateful that this gift of God would not be wasted. Instead he felt chilled. There was something profoundly frightening in the other man, something etched into his body, something ancient and terrible that wished to break free.

As the man healed and quietly agreed to take work with the Order, Jinette watched him and could not help but feel dread. The man could feel evil like other men could smell garlic and the Order thrived on men like Gabriel. No, Jinette never missed that particular signal either; he merely did not discuss it. But all the time he felt like something was wrong, like the man was incomplete, as if he was without some vital part of himself. He had no memory, but men can make new memories, they can build lives after destruction, but somehow this man could not. He was frozen in place. Sometimes in the privacy of his thought Jinette thought him to be the sleeping beauty, forever frozen in time until a brave Prince would cut down the thorns and free the princess with a kiss. But who would free a man of violence and blood? Who could be strong enough to cut down the thorns pressed into his skin and mind? There was no freedom for men like them.

So Jinette used him. Gabriel took the dangerous cases and the blood thirsty monsters and always survived. He spilled blood and was discontent. Jinette knew the man was looking for his past, desperate for those missing years. But Jinette feared those memories, of what they would bring. Everything he could, he keep from Gabriel, hid away the trances of memory never to be seen again.

* * *

Thank you to everyone who has read this far. The story will not end here. There will be part four…. 


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